That's when the fight started....

                          

It was raining torrentially last Sunday, and the wife (My wife is a stunner.  She works down the local abbatoir.) had planned to go down to our local pub, The Pit Bull and Stanley-Knife, but she had fallen out of the first- floor window, whilst ironing the curtains.  The missus had a split shift rota-system at work to adhere to on Monday, (she is a gritter over Woodhead) so she wanted just to ‘chill-out’.  I suppose, that’s what gritters do. Meanwhile, my next-door neighbour ‘Barmy Albert’ was shuffling around his house feeling thoroughly dejected and suffering compound manic depression.  His wife, ‘Non-Stick’ Nora, has left him. She had gone out last week for a bottle of milk, and never came back.  I asked him how he was coping, he replied, “Luckily, I had a tin of that powdered stuff”.

The countdown is on! The missus wanted to know what was my favourite Christmas Carol. Apparently,  ‘Vorderman’ was the wrong answer. That’s when the fight started!

                                 

While out hunting, with the boys, Barmy Albert got into hot water yet again and ended up in court for shooting down a Golden Eagle.  The judge wanted to know why he had committed such a heinous crime, recklessly killing a protected species.  In his defence, Albert told the judge that he’d been shooting clay pigeons and the gun had gone off by accident and the next thing he knew was that the bird fell at his feet and there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn’t done on purpose.  It was a genuine accident. The judge asked Albert what became of the remains of the bird. In mitigation, Albert said that as the animal was already deceased, they took it back to camp and roasted it over the campfire and consumed it that very night. The judge was flabbergasted! In his summing up, he said: “I don’t believe that you actually ate a protected species! Could you tell me what it tasted like?” Albert thought for a moment and replied: “It tasted a bit like swan…”

Two pigs were freezing in the snow and one says to the other: “It’s flippin’ perishing cold today, me trotters are frozen solid!”  The other pig sez: "Don't worry, I’ve heard that we’re getting some blankets for Christmas."

                              

I had an altercation with the manager of our local Tesco over the weekend. I was ejected from the staff canteen and was thrown out!  I told them I was on my break, but they insisted that I didn’t work there and the facilities were for employees only.  I told them that I’d been using the self-service till on a regular basis, so I clearly do work there, albeit unpaid! I’m looking forward to the Christmas do!

Innit awful gerrin auld.  A very elderly gentleman (mid 90s), very well dressed, hair well groomed, great looking suit, flower in his lapel, smelling slightly of an expensive after-shave, presenting a well looked-after image, walks into an upscale cocktail lounge. Seated at the bar is an elderly looking lady (mid 80s). The gentleman walks over, sits alongside her, orders a drink, takes a sip, turns to her and says, "So tell me, do I come here often?"

                                       

       

An elderly couple had dinner at another couple’s house. After eating, the wives left the table and went into the kitchen. The two gentlemen were talking, and one said, "Last night we went out to a new restaurant and it was really great. I would recommend it very highly. The other man said, "What is the name of the restaurant?" The first man thought and thought and finally said, "What is the name of that flower you give to someone you love? You know… the one that’s red and has thorns."  "Do you mean a rose?", "Yes, that’s the one," replied the man. He then turned towards the  kitchen and yelled, "Rose, what’s the name of that restaurant we went to last night?"

 

We were on the High St yesterday and the missus asked me: "What have you got me for Krimbo?" I sez, "You see that big pink Mercedes Convertible over there?" She breathlessly replies, "Yeah!" I sez, "I got you a hairbrush, the exact same colour!"

                               

The Pitt Bull & Stanley Knife Slimming Club...

                                           Austin Knight        &     Mark Lawrenson

Now that the weather has become a tad inclement, I have noticed that everyone up Scropton Street back snicket wears woolly jumpers that are at least one size too small, including me. However, we are a tight knit community!



The wife has been missing for well over a week now and the police called round last night and told me to expect the worst. So, this morning, I’ve had to go to the charity shop and get all her clothes back…



Granny always buys and wraps my Christmas presents many months in advance. Last year she got me a lovely dog skeleton.



The new Marks & Spencer advert says: “It wouldn't be Christmas without M & S”. This is correct, because without M & S it would spell Chrita...

                                 

Non-Stick Nora and Barmy Albert are languishing in their local pub, The Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife one evening, just nattering, when Nora suddenly asks: "If I died, would you re-marry?" "Probably" Albert answered. "You would?" Nora asked, a bit surprised. "Would you let her come into my house?" "I suppose so." "Would she be cooking in my kitchenette?" "She most certainly would!" "Would she be soaking her corns in my foot spa?" "She would!" "Would she be putting all her gansies in my wardrobe?" "I would think so!" Growing more exasperated, Nora continued asking: "Would she be driving my Reliant Robin?" "She would!" "Would she be kipping in my bed?" "She would!" "Would she be using my golf clubs?" "Oh, no, definitely not." Albert said. Nora asked him: "Why not?" Albert replied: "Because she’s left-handed." That’s when the fight started!



Dastardly Derek owned a public house in the Stalybridge area. The Department of Social Security and Pensions heard that he was not paying proper wages to his staff and sent an agent down to interview him. "I need a list of your employees and how much you pay them.” demanded the agent. "Well", replied the Derek, "There’s my chef, who’s been with me for three years. I pay him £500 a week plus free room and board. The barmaid has been here for eighteen months, and I pay her £300 a week plus free room and board. Then there’s the moron who works about twenty hours every day and does about 90% of all the work around here. He makes about £10 a week, pays his own room and board and I buy him a bottle of red wine every Saturday night. He also sleeps with my wife occasionally." "That’s the guy I want to talk to, the moron," says the agent. ”That would be me", replied Dastardly Derek….

                                           

Some friends in my local pub ‘The Pit Bull and Stanley Knife’ had joined a weight-loss organization. At one meeting the instructor held up an apple and a chocolate bar. "What are the attributes of this apple," she asked, "and how do they relate to our diet?" "Low in calories" and "lots of fibre" was among the ensuing answers. She then proceeded to detail what was exactly wrong with eating chocolate and concluded thus, "Apples are not only more healthy, but also less expensive. Are you aware that I paid 75p for this bar of chocolate?" They all stared, as she held aloft the forbidden treat. From the back of the room a small voice spoke up, "I’ll give you three quid for it!"



The famous actor Richard Gere has a brother who is a ventriloquist. His name is Gotler. I was doing a gig last week and was engaged at Fisons Fertilisers Football Club at Fiddlers Ferry. I worked with Gotler Gere, who is an excellent ventriloquist. He was going through his routine and launched into a run of silly blonde jokes, which I thought were quite harmless, when all of a sudden, a blonde woman in the first row stood up and bawled: “Okay, stoopid, I’ve heard just about enough of your denigrating blonde jokes…. what makes you think you can stereotype women that way? What do a person’s physical attributes have to do with their value as a human being? It’s cretins like you who keep women like me from being respected at work and in the general community from reaching my full potential as a person; because you and your kind continue to perpetuate discrimination against not only blondes but women at large… all in the name of humour!” Flustered, Gotler began to profoundly apologise, when suddenly, the blonde pipes up: “You shut up and stay out of this Mister – I’m talking to that little guy on your knee!!”      

                                   

Making sandcastles with my grandad....

 

                     

It’s amazing how times change. I fondly recollect when I used to make sandcastles with my grandad. Until my grandmother ruined it and took the urn away. Moreover, My grandfather served in Iraq. He was Saddam Hussains butler…

Non-Stick Nora and Barmy Albert went on a charabanc trip from The Pitt Bull and Stanleyknife pub and they visited the races at Doncaster. Neither of them knew nothing whatsoever about racing, betting or horses. Albert picks one with the best name, Chunky Monkey. Anyway, this horse has odds of 200/1 and any punter with even minimal racing knowledge wouldn’t even back a horse with these rank-outsider odds. They get to the starting blocks and after several minutes the race commences. After a couple hundred metres Chunky Monkey seemed to be doing moderately well. However, the nag suddenly turned around and started heading back to towards the starting block. Barmy Albert started getting excited and stood up screaming and shouting at the top of his voice: "Go Chunky Monkey. Go!” A few seconds later the horse crossed the finish line the opposite way! Albert was ecstatic and yelled out: “I'm rich! I’ve won a fortune!” Non-Stick Nora sez: " Hey Albert, why are you so happy, that was one dud of a horse for crying out loud, he ran the wrong flamin’ direction" “That does not matter.” Albert sez with a huge grin on his face. “I backed it each way!”

The missus wants a divorce because of my obsession with using too many metaphors. It came as a bolt out of the blue. You could’ve knocked me down with a feather. Took the wind right out of my sails, I can tell yer!


                               

I was searching on Google yesterday and the missus asked me: "what are you up to?" I sez: "I’m looking for cheap flights". She got all imflamed and effervescent and told me that I was the best husband a woman could ever have! To be perfectly honest, I never even knew she was interested in darts!

At breakfast, yesterday, I eagerly waited for the wife to comment on my first attempt at my new recipe cheese omelette. After several minutes with no reaction, I asked, “If I manufactured these commercially, how much do you think I would get for one of them?” Without looking up from her iPod she replied, “About five years.” That’s when the fight started!

I purchased a packet of those Cadburys Chocolate Animals yesterday. It clearly stated on the pack ‘Do not consume if seal is broken.’ What’s all that about then?

Thought for Thursday: Never attribute to malice what can be adequately explained by stupidity.

When I gaze in the mirror and see a fat, wrinkled, grey-haired and sken-eyed old bloke, I always say to myself: “They certainly don’t make mirrors like they used to.”

                       

  

Octogenarian Elsie Grabknuckle was tidying her husband Tommy’s wardrobe when she discovered three golf balls and a shoebox with £5,000 in it. She waited for him to come home from the golf course, to ask him why these things were hidden in his wardrobe. Tommy told her “I'm sorry I hid this from you, but the truth is every time I cheated on you over the last fifty years, I put a golf ball in the drawer.” Elsie was very upset at first, but after thinking about it said: "I guess three times in fifty years is really not that bad! Oh! by the way what is the £5,000 in the shoebox?” With all the dignity Tommy could muster, he sez: " Well, every time I got to a dozen balls, I sold them for a fiver.”.

                           

  

Apparently, Happy Harry Hooper was in Crown Court for allegedly molesting a six-foot tall Latvian lady of the night. Although, Harry stands only 4'2" tall. The judge, in summing up sez: “As I understand, the offence was committed in a standing position. Forgive me, but how did he reach?” The lady said, “He used a bucket, M’Lord.” Appearing quite perplexed, the judge replied, “But surely, you could have kicked the bucket away?” She answered, “He put the bucket on my head and swung from the handle.”

I’m broke, but not poor broke. I’m posh broke. I’m baroque.

If I could offer you some advice for the future: Dance like you are mortally injured. Make love like your being filmed and you need the money. Work when people are watching. Dress up in Lycra. Always leave a false name. Be legendary. Believe in Karma. If at first you don’t succeed, then redefine success. Visit my website http://www.ComedianUK.com and continue the quest! Email me:comedianuk@sky.com

The clocks go back!

 

        

Well, the Rolling Stones have a No1 Album in the charts and The Beatles have a new single out. Just how far did we put the clocks back last week?

I never bother to alter all the clocks. It’s too much mither. I just watch ITV+1 for six months …

Specsavers have tweeted (or X’d) “To all Manchester United fans, if you bring your glasses into any of our stores, we’ll swap them for a blindfold, so you don’t have to watch this anymore.” I heard on the grapevine that Erik ten Hag has planted some potatoes around the pitch, so he’ll have summat to pick up at the end of the season.

After a raucous night out with the darts and dominoes team up Scropton Street at the Pitt Bull and Stanley Knife pub, I eventually staggered home at 4 am and tiptoed into the house, when the cuckoo clock sounded four times. Rapidly realising that the missus would probably wake up, I proceeded to ‘cuckoo’ an additional eight times, in order to make it seem like it was still midnight. I must admit that I was really chuffed with myself for thinking on my feet and coming up with such an ingenious solution, even while being paralytic drunk, in order to avoid a potential conflict with her in the early hours of the morning. The following day, the missus asked me what time I got home. I told her it was around midnight and she didn’t seem to suspect a thing, but right as I thought I’d gotten away with it, she opined: “By the way, I reckon that we desperately need a new cuckoo clock.” I asked her “What do you mean. Why?” She replied: “Well last night, our clock cuckoo’d four times, then it shouted “Flamin’ Nora!” then after clearing it’s throat, cuckoo’d another three times, then started laughing, cuckoo’d twice more and then tripped over the cat and was sick!”

Two major problems we have presently in the UK are potholes and housing migrants. Surely the government should be aware that there is one obvious solution to fix both these issues simultaneously…







There seems to be some confusion in Wales ahead of the Speed Limit change and so, I thought I would help by briefly explaining how the change works so that there can be no confusion: Any roads that were previously 30 will now be 20 apart from the roads that aren’t going to be 20, which will still remain as 30. When you see street lights you have to assume that the roads will be 20 even if the signs still say 30 because despite the signs saying 30, the roads could be 20, apart from, of course, the roads (as explained above) which will remain 30 despite them being 20. It’s also important to remember that there will still be a number of roads which despite them having street lights will not be 20, and in these cases they could be 30, 40, 50, 60 or even 70, however, always bear in mind that even if the signs on these roads still state 30 they could, of course, be 20 unless they are one of the roads that have been designated 30, in which case the 20 restriction will not apply. I trust that clarifies. It’s really not difficult.


You just can’t trust these insurance companies. I’ve checked my home insurance policy and apparently, if my duvet is stolen in the middle of the night, I’m not covered!




Last week, because of  the ferocity of Storm Ciaran and due to a power outage, only one paramedic responded to the call. The house was very dark so the paramedic asked Sharon, a three-year-old girl to hold a flashlight high over her mummy, so he could see while he helped deliver the baby. Very diligently, Sharon did as she was asked. Mummy pushed and pushed and after a little while, baby Kevin was born. The paramedic lifted him by his little feet and smacked him on his bottom. Baby Kevin immediately began to cry. The paramedic then thanked Sharon for her help and asked the wide-eyed three-year-old what she thought about what she had just witnessed. Sharon quickly responded, "He shouldn’t have crawled in there in the first place……smack his bum again!"

An Essex girl is involved in a nasty car crash and is trapped and bleeding. The paramedics soon arrive on site. Paramedic: ‘It’s Okay, I’m a paramedic and I’m going to ask you some questions?’ Girl: ‘Okay’ Paramedic: ‘What’s your name?’ Girl: ‘Tracey’ .’Paramedic: ‘Alright Tracey , is this your car?’ Tracey: ‘Yes.’ Paramedic: ‘Can you tell me where you’re bleeding from?’ Tracey replied: ‘Romford, mate.’